Shades of Love
by Jasnah
Summary: About Lelouch vi Britannia and the women in his live. They had loved him. Maybe he'd loved them too.


**There once was a girl** who told him something about love: "Love is power! Falling in love with someone gives you great power! It makes you think about that person every single day, write poems, wake up early, knit scarves for them, jump into waterfalls and scream that person's name!"

She described exactly the kind of love she felt for him, that innocent, dreamy, absolute love of a young woman. And if he had listened to her, really listened to her, he would have understood that she meant him. That she was in love with him. But he didn't understand, at least not at this time, because he was too busy thinking about war, politics and machinations.

Shirley was … nice. A good friend. Helpful, open-hearted and kind to everyone. Always worrying about him. Maybe a bit too normal for him – or so she thought. Because he wasn't normal. He was special.

She thought about him, watched him and recognized the pain lying beneath his eyes, so deeply hidden and almost concealed by the arrogance he wore like a shield every day. She wanted to be there for him, wanted nothing more than to ease the pain, to give him hope, peace and joy. And perhaps, if she had found the courage to confess, she would've been able to give it. But her fear of rejection was just too strong.

She didn't know that he was afraid as well. Afraid of closeness. Afraid of loss. Afraid of endangering her again.

And unrelentingly, the time ticked away. She thought she still had plenty of time to confess to him. He thought he had no time at all to even think about such trivialities as love. And then the day came that proved them both wrong.

"Lulu, I'm glad that we can talk in the very end …"  
When he saw the terrible wound in her abdomen and the blood – _oh Gods, so much blood, far too much blood_ – a hard, analytical part of him already understood that she was beyond remedy ( _and wasn't it terribly fitting that the sirens were still wailing outside?_ ), whereas the rest of him simply refused to accept it.  
And finally, _finally_ , she could confess to him, and it was such a relief to finally say those words, although it wasn't like she wanted it to be, he had not cried in her fantasies, and she had not died, but it was alright, it was enough to see his face one more time, and she wanted to hug him and to soothe him, but maybe she was lucky, maybe she would be reborn and she would love him again of course, and maybe she would do it all better next time, yes that was a nice thought …  
"Shirley, don't die! I order you not to die!" But the bleeding didn't stop despite the red ring of Geass that lit up her eyes, and she didn't stop talking about how much she loved him and he wished she'd never had such feelings for him, because maybe all of this wouldn't have happened then …  
"No matter … how many times … I'll fall … in love again …"  
And as her hand fell to the ground with an unnatural loud slosh and he screamed his misery out into the world, he remembered that fateful day when he erased her memory and their conversation in front of the memorial:

 _"_ _Have you lost someone from your family too?"_  
 _"No, not a family member. A friend. A very good friend."_  
 _"I see."_  
 _"I didn't know. I didn't know until I lost her how much she meant to me."_  
 _"You loved her, didn't you?"_  
 _"I don't know."_

And he still didn't.

* * *

 **There once was a princess** he'd called his first love.

The war had torn them apart, but when they finally met again, he could still hear the faint echo of children's laughter resounding in his ears. She reminded him of happy bygone days, of self-braided floral wreaths and soap bubbles beneath blue skies and cotton candy clouds.

He pointed his gun at her. She was right in front of him, utterly fearless, her facial expression an unsettling mixture of joy and sadness. "Lelouch? You're Lelouch, aren't you? Are you going to kill me?"  
And he lowered the gun, thinking, _No, of course not. How could I?_

Euphie was … too good for this world. Far too good for this world! And a thousand times superior to him morally. He struggled against her, flung ugly words and cold arguments at her. She still smiled her unwavering kind smile, which was above all his anger, and continued reaching out her hand to him. Until he finally had no choice but to give up his resistance and take her hand.

One single carelessly spoken sentence was enough to ruin everything. He saw how she struggled against his inadvertent command to no avail; saw how his Geass smothered her soul, how it wiped out everything that made Euphie the person she was, and turned her into a murderous puppet.

And then the screams, the blood and the shots. A new form of horror, which he had never felt to this extend before. He had to kill her. It was better for her, the only thing he could do to redeem her from her horrible fate. Right? _Right?_

… Right.

He pulled the trigger, and those huge startled eyes in her pale blood-stained face pierced his heart. _Why,_ those eyes seemed to ask. _Why are you doing this to me? Why?_ And his bullet sent not only her, but also a little part of himself to death.

 _Farewell, Euphie. You were my first love. But first loves rarely get a happy ending._

* * *

 **There once was a heroine** who despised Lelouch Lamperouge and admired Zero without knowing that both identities were masks from one and the same person. As both masks were ripped from his face in front of her, she ran away, overwhelmed by her shock and his betrayal.

But she came back. She gave him a second chance, and this time, she wanted to learn the truth.

Kallen was … a fighter. Determined. Brave. Feisty. Full of anger. With her head held high she went through her life, daring everyone to defy her.

He began opening up to her, at least to some extent. And over the time she realized that Lelouch pretended to be many things that he actually wasn't. He was no arrogant asshole. He was no glorious hero. He was no devious was just a man, who, trapped in a spiral of hatred and love, hope and despair, tried to change this broken, cruel world for the better. Just as herself.

"Who's that?"  
She winced and pressed the photo to her chest, instinctively trying to obscure it from his view. He stepped back and raised his hands to appease her. "Sorry, I was too pushy. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."  
He'd already turned to go as she pulled herself together and answered his question: "It's my brother. Naoto."  
He turned around again and looked at the photo she hesitantly held out to him.  
"He used to be the leader of our resistance group. Before you ..." She broke off, struggling with the tears she'd held back for years. "He died protecting me."  
He eyed her with the same soft expression she'd seen so many times on him when he spoke with Nunnally or thought of her. "Of course he did," he said gently. "That's what older brothers are there for."  
She just nodded, unable to say anything. He patted her shoulder.  
"We'll make it, Kallen." And the soft expression shifted into grim determination. "We will liberate Japan, so that your brother and all the others have not died in vain."  
She wiped back the tears that burned in her eyes and smiled. "Yes, we will."

She vowed to herself to never abandon him again. He may not be the glorious hero she'd once thought he was, but he was still able to give her hope. That's why she had to protect him while he was protecting her dream for her.

"If you want to kill him, you have to kill me first!"  
She stood in front of him, her arms spread out protectively, ready to die for him, and the Black Knights were on the verge of opening the fire—  
 _No, Kallen. Not you too._  
He did what had to be done; he mocked her and shattered the delicate trust they'd built up with so much effort. And she stepped aside, hurt and heartbroken, but alive at least.  
 _Why,_ he thought. _Why does it always have to end like that?_ _Am I doomed to inflict suffering on exactly those people I want to protect from it the most?_  
"Kallen, you need to live on," he whispered. A faint spark of truth among thousands of lies.

 _Kallen, you need to live on. But I'm afraid I can't accompany you, so you'll have to do it without me._

* * *

 **There once was a witch** with an empty heart and an unusual request: She asked him to say her true name with love and affection lingering in his voice. He tried and failed, but the attempt alone was enough to give her at least a little comfort.

C.C. was … puzzling. Resigned. Sardonic. Sad. Tired. And so extremely irritating. While his emotions almost spilled over in some situations, she remained cool and composed – it bordered on indifference. He couldn't see through her and it annoyed him greatly, and she enjoyed teasing him because of it. And yet there was something oddly comforting in her presence.

It took him a while to understand:  
C.C. was broken already. No matter what he did, he couldn't hurt her.  
C.C. was immortal. No matter what he did, he couldn't endanger her.  
And so C.C. became the only human being that needed neither his protection nor his lies. Only with her, he could be himself. C.C. saw everything of him; all his faults and weaknesses, all his strengths and achievements, all his fears and longings. She never hesitated criticizing or mocking him, but she never condemned him. She accepted him. She was just _there_ , and over time he got used to her proximity so much that without her, maintaining his composure became pretty hard.

And while C.C. gave him support, in her own peculiar way, Lelouch gave her something she'd forgotten a long time ago: the feeling of being alive.

In those last shared minutes before his death they sat on his bed, back to back, their hearts beating with the same rhythm, as if they were one.  
"You still haven't fulfilled your part of our contract," she said. She could feel the tense of his muscles at this accusation and smiled vaguely. "And now it's become impossible for you to fulfill it," she added before he had a chance to answer. "That's why I decided to change the contract."  
"You mean you want to change your wish?" The confusion and uncertainty was evident in his voice and her smile widened to a grin. "That's right. You can't fulfill my first wish, so I'll just make another. You owe me that much."  
He remained silent for some seconds, an awkward, almost anxious kind of silence. What was he thinking? That she would force him to perform a silly little dance for her so that she could tease him one last time? A tempting idea–  
"What do you want?" he asked quietly, his voice so earnest and genuine that her little idea almost ashamed her. Almost.  
"Smile."  
"What?" He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, but he couldn't see her, not really, they were too close and her hair blocked his view. "I want you to smile when the time comes," she said. "I want you to welcome your death with a smile."  
His heart beat a little faster now, outside of her own heart's rhythm. "C.C., that's exactly–"  
"–What I want."  
"–What I told you when you wanted to pass your code on to my father."  
"That's right. Does that make any difference?"  
She could feel the weight of his gaze pressing against the back on her head, but refused to turn around and return his look. "... No." He took a deep breath; the movement shook not only his, but also her body. "Herewith I make new contract with you: I promise to greet death with a smile, and through death, I will create a new and better world. This way, both of our wishes will come true."  
"It's settled, then," she said solemnly. She put her hand on his and squeezed it to seal the new contract.  
Only a few seconds later, the phone started ringing. Lelouch grabbed it with his other hand and took the call. "Yes? ... Yes. Thank you, Jeremiah." He put the phone back on its place.  
"The time has come." His voice betrayed no emotion. Nor did his face – she knew that, although she couldn't see it. But his hand, his hand in her hand was trembling. For some reason he'd never succeeded to control his hands, despite his masterful acting skills. C.C. squeezed his hand more tightly. It was just a simple, encouraging gesture, but in this special moment it was many times more intimate than a kiss or a hug.  
They stood up with one single synchronous movement. C.C. walked around the bed until she was facing him, and put his hat onto his head, straightening it. "It will work," she whispered.  
He nodded, still a little tense, but determined. "It will work."  
Another exchange of glances. Seconds elapsed in silence.  
He turned to leave. "By the way, this hat of yours is totally ridiculous," she exclaimed suddenly.  
He made an unwilling, throaty sound. "Why are you telling me that now, of all times, witch?"  
"I thought that would be rather obvious." She grinned again. "Because I am C.C."

She could have asked him once again to try saying her true name in a loving manner. Maybe this time he would've been able to do it. But what would've been the good of this? It just would have made their farewell even more difficult. Maybe she wouldn't have managed to let go of him then.  
But that was the crucial thing: Being in love also meant letting the other go when it was necessary. She remembered that by now.

* * *

 **There once was a sister** that longed for a peaceful and happy world and he decided to make that wish come true.

He thought he knew what it would cost him to make it happen, and that he would be willing to bear the costs. But he did not know, and when he realized this, it was too late to back down. So he went on, and with every step new blood was shed, new promises were broken, new ideals were betrayed.

He'd promised he would never lie to her. He broke that promise eventually, but it was necessary to fulfill her wish, so it was worth it.

He'd promised he would never leave her alone. This promise, too, was broken eventually, but it was necessary to fulfill her wish, so it was worth it.

He'd promised he would never hurt her. And as the time came and he had no other choice but to hurt her, he wasn't so certain about its worth anymore.

Nunally was … innocent. Warm-hearted. Faithful. Filled with an inner strength despite her physical weakness. She always accepted the help of others with a smile, but never indulged in self-pity and always tried to be no burden to others. And she lost her innocence when she decided to oppose her brother.

 _You were right, Shirley,_ he thought, as he crossed the platform of Damokles with FLEAS's key in his hands. He heard the loud thud as Nunally fell out of her wheelchair and everything inside of him screamed. He wanted to turn around, wanted to take her in his arms and tell her the truth _(It's a lie, Nunally! A huge, monstrous lie. I still love you, but I'm lost in my own lies and it's too late now–)_  
"You're the devil, Lelouch! Devious … despicable … How could you?"  
–and he gave her one last, disdainful look and walked away.

 _Love makes you very powerful indeed. But sometimes that power is just too destructive._


End file.
